


Reality and Pretend

by Aerial312



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:27:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27830752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerial312/pseuds/Aerial312
Summary: A tag to the final episode of The Next Generation.  Deanna hangs back after the poker game to have an important conversation with Will.
Relationships: William Riker/Deanna Troi
Kudos: 32





	Reality and Pretend

"There's a fine, fine line  
Between a lover, and a friend.  
There's a fine, fine line  
Between reality, and pretend;  
And you never know 'til you reach the top  
If it was worth the uphill climb.  
There's a fine, fine line  
Between love,  
And a waste of time"  
- _"A Fine, Fine Line"_ , Avenue Q

Deanna Troi yawned. It was late, later than she could remember a poker game going in some time. She wasn't fully sure why she had lingered when the others started trickling out of Commander Riker's quarters. It just felt like there were things they needed to talk about tonight, two in the morning or not.

It was nice to have the Captain join the game. He seemed changed by his experience shifting between the past, the present and the future. Of course, with his brilliant mind, he had used the experience to tactical advantage. He'd shared his experiences with his staff. It was his vision of the future that worried Deanna, not the least of which because he did not survive. It made this conversation she was waiting for all the more important. She turned a red poker chip over and over in her hands, listening to Data talk Will's ear off in the doorway.

"I still do not understand how you are more expressionless than I, sir, at a game of poker."

Will smiled. "The art of the game, my friend." He started to inch the door shut.

"Art," Data pondered. "I have never thought of poker as a type of art—"

"—And this is a discussion for another time," Will laughed, inching the door further shut. 

"I see," Data nodded. "Goodnight, Commander." 

The door finally shut, Will sighed and shook his head. Deanna chuckled softly. Will's gaze snapped to where she was still sitting at the poker table. 

"Deanna," He looked genuinely surprised to see her there. "I didn't realize you were still here." He raked his hand through his hair, crossing to sit beside her. "Sorry, I just assumed you had left with…" _Worf_. The name lingered in the air, unsaid. 

"I did not." To his credit, Worf had not questioned when she hung back. She looked up from the poker chip in her hand to find him studying her intensely. She held his gaze. "I wanted to talk to you."

"It's late," he started.

She cut off his feeble protest. "The Captain's vision of the future," she started, "was…disturbing."

He nodded. Then after a moment of silence, "You were dead," he said softly, bowing his head, "and I never got over it." That hadn't been the part of the Captain's vision that she'd planned to talk to him about. He seemed more shaken up about it than she'd expected him to be. Deanna dropped the chip and took his hand in hers. He gave it a squeeze, and shrugged, "But it's not a prophecy."

"It is not," she affirmed. That was good for her to remember too. 

"Beverly thinks that our actions have already changed the course of what's to come. She was talking about it before you joined us. If we don't let things effect us—negatively-- we can prevent the ramifications."

Ah, now he was inching towards what she'd wanted to talk about in the first place. "Are things effecting you negatively?" she asked. 

"I'm not going to let it—"

"But—"

"I don't know! Maybe? Yeah, maybe." There it was And then a switch flipped, and he couldn't stop talking. "Yes, it's bothered me. That's what you're asking me, right? I don't know why. He's an honorable man, who I've always respected—trusted with my life." Will released her hand and now he was up and pacing. "And I—I mean, let's be honest here---I'm sure its peeved you when I, when I take home some random—and I know it's peeved me when you have. Despite what I might have said. We've played that game for years. But those were—this isn't casual like that. I know you too well, Dea. You wouldn't go for casual with a colleague like that—not in a new relationship. This…means a lot more to you." He'd stopped pacing, and was leaning against the wall. 

"It does," she answered carefully. The depth of his emotion floored her. "I don't want to hurt him," she got up and stood against the wall beside Will, leaning into his shoulder, "and I don't want to hurt you either."

"I want you to be happy."

"I know.'

"And it this makes you happy…"

"It does," she affirmed. "I think. It' still makes me nervous."

"Nervous?" His brow furrowed. 

"Like you said, this is different. I don't think it's a fling, but I don't know what it is. It's not a one night stand, and it's not like spending the night with your best friend because you're both bored." He chuckled. That had happened more times than either of them would like to admit. For all the times that they swore they wouldn't, sometimes they couldn’t help themselves. "I don't know if I know how to have a real relationship."

"You did," he told her thoughtfully. 

"Nine years ago."

He sighed, "We were so young."

"Do you regret it?" she asked. 

Will shook his head. "I regret letting my ambition ruin—I've learned that there are more important things than rank and work."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, her cheek against his arm. It had been a cathartic conversation for both of them. They needed to get all of that out into the open.

"Thank you for being honest," she told him. "About all of it."

He shrugged. "I can't lie to you about it. You'd always be able to tell that I wasn't as okay as I'm trying to be." He stood up straighter. "But if you're happy, I will try." 

"Thank you." She kissed him softly on the cheek. "Good night."

"Good night." A yawn escaped her mouth. "It _is_ late," he laughed, holding the door open for her. 

Deanna paused outside the now-closed door to Will's quarters. This was going to be tricky to navigate. While she wanted to see where things went with Worf, she needed to be careful not to push Will away in the process. Their friendship was much too important to her.


End file.
